Confusion
by IZZY-CHAN13
Summary: Brainy has always been eccentric, and one always wonders what's swimming in that head of his. An innocent infatuation takes a turn for the worst. The so-called 'meddling' of his only friend and the hatred he feels for the others changes him completely...
1. Rejection, Again

The day's like any other. We wake up to the sun's warm rays, get ready for the daily routine, and sing our little tune as Papa Smurf taught us. The only difference today is that I can't find my glasses. My vision without them is a lost cause.

I attempt to pry my eyes open only to feel a sharp sting, and have to close them again. That's what I get for reading in front of a single candle all night. I only did what he told me to do, "seek knowledge, and share it with everyone around you".

Yeah, maybe.

I have a ton of books filled with "Quotes From Brainy Smurf". By asking I could probably get a spot to construct a huge library to storage them all… I'm the only one that reads them front to cover anyway.

Groping around I feel a thick metal frame, I think these are my glasses. They feel light enough, and they fit just fine. Didn't poke my eyes once. That's a good thing. I can finally open up my window shutter.

I took in more air than my lungs could handle.

A sad effort trying to stop the reflex only made the coughing worse, and I grab my head for a bruise that pulsated all the while.

Have you ever tried to take in a deep breath right after getting up from bed? Sometimes the idea runs through that the next second you could be sprawled on the floor gasping for air. Same kind of concept if you walk without watching where you're going, not caring if one sticks their foot in the swamp or the knot of a tree. The result is breaking a leg or an arm for not thinking ahead of time.

Those people are stupid.

In that case—

Oh great, a visitor. "I wonder who it could possibly be,"

The door opens and I twist my face around in disgust,

"It's just you," I'm greeted by a lazy smile. Sometimes I wish he'd raise up that cap of his so that I wouldn't have to go OCD over his entire existence.

"Mornin' Brainy!" He lets out a hillbilly chuckle, jovial.

I certainly don't feel jovial, "Morning, Clumsy."

"Gosh, you're still in your pajamas!" Technically, it's a nightgown.

Sometimes I wish I never met this kid. I said it. He is one.

I grit my teeth slightly, "Well Clumsy, if you excuse me, let me change…!" I growl, "Now leave me alone thanks" I shut the door in front of him and remove the gown as quickly as possible, splash a bit of water on my face. The towel feels warm. I wish I could just leave it there over me sometimes. My God—

Time to say hello to my fellow companions. My fellow smurfs. First victim of the day. I walk right up to Smurfette, lovely as usual. I smile; she has her eyes doing circles before giving me her own. The blonde hair glistens as much as her eyes. She smells like those flowers that she waters on her windowsill. Lovely, lovely Smurfette.

I must have been speechless, she looked at me quizzically.

"Ahem, lovely weather we're having today, don't you think?"

Another soft smile, "Yes, it is quite a nice day."

She folds her arms together and tries to warm herself up. Is it really that cold? Wow, this is awkward, I can't talk anymore. Geez, she's not even paying attention to me anymore.

I already know why.

I strut away before Smurfette realizes I'm gone.


	2. Lost

Okay, I get it. It's obvious that she doesn't like me very much. Hell the only time I remember her kissing me was after I was cured from that spell… I still don't know what happened that day…

I'll just come to the conclusion that females prefer brawn over brains. They don't care about enriching their vocabulary at all. They just _swoon_ over some dipstick that has only said a single word to them and then proclaiming marriage. If I had the time to smurf myself up to shape I most definitely would. I didn't mention it at the time, but I really didn't mind the way Smurfette looked when she first stepped into the village. Sure, her nose just needed to be a bit smaller, but she was all right. Still, this doesn't compensate for the fact that it drove Clumsy into distraction more than a couple times as she strutted by.

By Smurf I really need to get her out of my head. She's Hefty's, not mine. And it's such a shame. If only if the Smurflings used enough blue clay to—

"Hey Brainy, duck!"—

"Ow!—"

Watch it you _brat!_

"We're sorry! Are you okay?"

With a hand holding my dazed head, I spot a flash of red pigtails and bulbous eyes in front of me. The pink overalls are covered with dirt. Sassette really needs to take a bath.

"I'm fine— I silently curse at the stick beside me.

A bark and a whimper sounded in the near distance; pretty soon Puppy had shown up with those meddlesome boys.

Oh right adult Smurfs that were reverted back to children, whatever.

"Hey four-eyes, why didn't you duck?"

"Snappy! Well I guess I wasn't paying attention!" I growl.

Slouchy and Nat were only a second behind.

Get that smug little smirk off your face.

I stand and brush myself off. Puppy took his tongue and slobbered all over me. So much for freshening up in the morning. I look again at Sassette, and even with viscous saliva running down my back, I feign a smile. All I can think about is taking a shower—

The farmer boy giggled, "Here Brainy" A handkerchief is placed in my clenched hand. I clench it even more and raise it to the back of my neck. The cloth is rough yet soothing; I can only close my heavy lids for a second,

"Thanks." I open my eyes and gaze at all of them, staring at me all dumbfounded, "What?"

"Brainy" the girl paused, then tugged at Snappy's yellow sleeve, she whispered something in his ear—

Nat stood by me the entire time, and my face contracted with worry; a drop of water was rolling down my chin with such a lethargic manner that my thoughts could never match. Hastily I thrust the damp handkerchief to farmer boy and accidently push by the Smurfling leaning against a boulder.

My face hidden away I find my legs rushing toward the dense woods; I couldn't hide away my tears. I kept on running, running, still running; - I don't watch where I'm going and my foot catches on the edge of a trunk—

I break my fall with quick arms; my hands sting and burn. I get up with huge strength, only to slink down in front of the tree to blame.

Wow, I didn't think I could run so fast my heart's beating up a storm! Whew—

"_Nngh!_"

My legs are sore.

Really, Brainy? Cry like a baby in front of the Smurflings? Cry in front of Nat, Sassette?

I smack myself. The hurt brings me back into reality.

I'm lost.

* * *

The leaves gave way to cloudy sunlight. So warm I welcome it with arms behind my head. A breeze comes 'round, but it's cold. A quick shiver runs down my spine, but it ends as soon as it begins.

Hope that they don't start jabbing away to the whole population; that's the last form of humiliation I need. They're kids, who am I to complain? Oh wait—adult Smurfs and another science project. And the dog too. How much does Puppy eat anyway? How do they wash him? A waste of water I'm sure. I still want that shower.

How do I get home?

My stomach rumbles and I chuckle in embarrassment.

* * *

It's getting darker by the minute, and my arms are the only blanket to protect me from the wind. A sigh escapes shuddering lips; the weight on my neck crooks itself down into my chest…

A sharp rustle at the bushes catch my attention and I grab a rock lying on the mossy dirt, ready for an attack that would never come. The light wavered and flickered towards me.

A clang and a short yelp, and the fire goes out.

So much for an invaluable heat source,

"Who's there?" I choke on my question; the hand holding the rock shakes.

"Br—Brainy—- is that you?" A cheer of relief— "Wow it _is _you!"

Another clang and the Smurf falls. I groan in disbelief but then can't help myself from a laugh in the nook of my palm.

"Wait here Brainy!"

Another rustling of leaves in the bush and another clang; the lantern magically appears in my view again. I cease laughing,

"Clumsy, what brings you out here? Probably lost too huh?"

"Nope, I know where we are. Follow me and I'll lead us back to the village—

I scoff, "The _Village?_— _Lead?_"

I laugh even harder and hold my sides which were growling in anticipation. Again he talks,

"I know where we are Brainy, follow me."

You can't even lead yourself to the bathroom!

* * *

Surely I must be seeing things; the lights of the mushroom houses were within our range. We were nearly out of the woods. The light wavered transfixed on a concerned face, shifting his eyes to peer at me and then down to the ground again,

"I skipped dinner just to find you Brainy, every Smurf wondered where you were."

Really now?

"I could have figured out a way to get home myself thanks."

"The Smurfings—

I flinch vividly - "the Smurflings told us that you ran into the woods for some reason, they were kinda surprised."

"Did they tell you guys anything _else?_"

Clumsy chuckled, "No Brainy, they didn't." He couldn't meet my gaze, and I already knew why—

"Sorry."

"Um, for what?" his head perked; we stepped foot into the outskirts of the Smurf Village.

"Ff! Never mind." I jerked my head in the other direction, and my stomach wouldn't shut up. Neither could his apparently.

"Oh."

"Well."

"Uh, hey, Greedy told me that we could have something to eat at his house if you want—

"_Would I ever!_"

* * *

The satisfied grin played on until the last drop of vegetable soup had gone down my throat, savoring every molecule of it.

"You must have been _starving_ out there Brainy!"

"You'd win that bet."

Greedy removed his apron and hung it on the rung of his chair, and out of the cupboard he pulled out a Smurfberry pie, "Want a bite?"

"Oh I sure would!" Clumsy belted out, jolting for the dessert— "Whoa!"—

Before I suspected a thing the whipped cream was all over the side of my face. Now I _really_ want that shower.

"Oh Clumsy. Look what you've gone and done!"

_Again!_

The chef just laughed and pulled out a towel, "Here, Brainy."

The echoing of those words gave me nausea. I wasn't in the mood for dessert anymore. Nonchalantly I wipe the stick off and look at Clumsy with a glaring eye, he smiling sheepishly as usual.

I still want to raise the brim of that damned cap.


	3. Beloved Leader

"Papa Smurf, I'm sure this will contribute to the betterment of our society."

Papa stroked at his cloud beard, "Say, Brainy, don't those magic jars look a bit dusty?"

…

"While you're at it, why don't you sweep the floor too? My potion ingredients are getting everywhere, and I'm afraid that someone could catch a cold or allergy from them."

"Whatever you say, Papa Smurf." When I turn around I let out a scowl. Duster in hand, I'm tempted to rip out the feathers. Maybe instead of spreading the dirt around in the air, maybe I should use a damp cloth…

My words of philosophy were shut out once more. Every time I'm in his lab he makes me do the housework while he gets to play God with his experiments. There were times when I was given a chance to whip up a serum, but every time I try, something goes wrong, usually in the form of an unexpected guest.

Or my lenses don't work or I can't read anything but my own quotes anymore. My inferiority complex is acting up again—I gotta stop talking to myself.

My fingers nearly slide off of a glass jar of dragon's blood—

"Whoa!"

"_Brainy!_" I chuckle nervously and resume my work. I don't hear another word from him, but the door to his lab slams shut. Dust suspends in the air as I proceed to dust the portraits poorly jutted out from the wall.

"This place is a dump!" The particles tickle and tease my nose. I take a sniff before a sneeze rolls in—Then I cough violently.

I forgot why I admire that leader so much. He brought us together, raised us. He even fashioned these glasses for me.

~~ "Papa Smurf, what is this?"

"_They're_ called spectacles. You'll need them to see."

"But, Papa—I can see just fine—

"Believe me, you're going to need them soon enough." ~~

Then he told me to do research on various topics of our community lifestyle. And through countless hours of taking inventory, working by candlelight, I lost my 20/20 vision.

So he's the oldest. So he's the wisest. Shouldn't the wise listen to other's opinions as to broaden their own perspective?

I keep a tight grip on the next jar and dust away, just contemplating those little moments when I had something over my fellow Smurfs. Am I capable of being a leader on my own? I lack experience, so shouldn't I be given a shot at it? Why does no one question the one in charge?

I flinch and feel the glass flatten my thumb. I'm such a hypocrite. All these Smurf years and I haven't uttered a single word of rebellion. And now that I think back, "Well, Papa Smurf said" is just a front to bolster my own reputation. It couldn't hurt to dream, can it?

Imagine all the good I can do if I were to be in charge. Not just for a day. I can finally put my words to good use and revolutionize the lifestyle. Everyone would need to listen to me because I speak the truth.

The only reason why they banish me and throw me around on village grounds is because I speak the truth. As daring or harsh, prejudiced or bigoted as it sounds, I have the reason—

Can I tell them—inform them, that the world we live in is not a bed of roses, but rows and rows of thorns and venom-spitting snakes ready to devour them whole—

_Clnk! Crrrk! Clink!_

Life isn't perfect. What can the village do if some enemy finds it?

An all-too-familiar twinge pulsates at the back of the head. Grip still on the jar, I shut my eyes to the ceiling as my mind's activity tries to cease. But my own musings to become the leader were replaced by the jeers and insults of those that didn't understand my intentions.

Papa Smurf's face pops up in my mind's eye, and half of me smiles. The other shattered the glass between my hands.

My eyelids are freed open to the sight of red and blue. Shards wiggled its way into the ridges. The bump on my heads pulsates even louder, and I bite my tongue to not scream aloud. My hands kept open, shaking. The potion within had splashed everywhere. A few drops landed on the leaves of a potted rosebud. A bead of sweat rolls down my aching neck as gravity played its part.

The drops of the mystery potion collected together before rolling down, plopping itself into the soil.

Playing God—that's a human saying. Papa wouldn't have it.

Nothing.

Nothing but the creak of the door and the clattering of items on the hardwood floor—

"Brainy, what happened?"

Papa Smurf despises the humans.

"Come on, my little Smurf. We'll get you cleaned up."

As I'm led to the front room like a child I nearly give a sigh of relief until I peer over the shoulder, and notice the petals of the rose bud unfurling, one by one.

* * *

"You have to be more careful, Brainy." His consoling self. I wince as the cold metal pincers dig into the skin; the large pieces were already in the trash. Out of embarrassment I didn't complain about how fragile that jar was, nor did I begin to cry. Just sat there, biting my lip and letting my toes curl into each other to release the tension.

"Almost done; what were you doing?"

"Dusting the jars."

The gauze wraps around my palms and fingers tight enough to ebb the flow. Little spots creep their way to the surface. I stared for a minute until I hear another voice,

"Oh, Papa Smurf! You have to come quick!"

My glasses nearly fall off.

"What's the matter, Smurfette?"

"Baby Smurf—he got a serious rash after playing in the sassafras—

My freshly bandaged hands sting as I adjust the frames—

"What happened to Brainy?"

Papa Smurf let out something between a cough and a chuckle before responding, "He broke a glass jar."

"How?"

"I was dusting the jar." Like a broken record.

My eyes finally raise themselves away from my crusted hands onto the umber orbs, or were they lavender? I can see her sympathy, and against my will I make myself emotionless to her question.

"So," Papa Smurf paced around the room, collecting a few herbs from the drawers, "I know what Baby might have—

He reaches for the grinding stone on his desk,

"I'll be back soon enough." He gives an assuring smile, but I wasn't sure if it was directed toward me or not—

"Thank you, Papa Smurf!"

Figures. A tiny sigh escapes my lips before realizing that Smurfette took Papa's seat in front of me.

"Uh—don't you have to check up on the baby?"

"How did you break the jar?"

Wow, she's persistent.

"I was dusting the jar; my grip must have been too hard. Heh heh." My eyes shuffle to the side. Her soft voice caught me off guard—

"Were you angry at something—or someone?"

_Jesus_, lady! I'm not gonna spill my life story on you—of all the fu—

"No." calm as can be, "I wasn't angry—Maybe I was just distracted."

I feign a smile. And a crooked one at that.

Then she starts giggling. She must be dead tired. I glance over her shoulder to the open window to see if any other Smurf was peering in on us. Pink, orange, and violet forms a soft carpet for the emerging stars. The smirk left just as quick as it came, and right now I wouldn't have it any other way…

"I'm sorry you got hurt, Brainy," her hand comes in centimeters away from mine, and I pull my own back with a jerk—

"ff—ow." The sting was about to make it go numb. I hope my ears haven't gone red.

Yes, my ears. It's embarrassing.

The same outreached hand pulls golden hair behind her small ear,

"Sorry."

Well, you should be. "It's fine."

And to think you wanted to be rid of me a week ago.

The immediate silence was broken by babble and a baby rattle.

"There, all gone!" A jovial Papa.

* * *

"You'll heal soon enough. I've added a special balm to speed up the process."

"Thank you, Papa Smurf." Void of any real emotion.

I catch one final glimpse of Smurfette as she carries the small child home—the bliss that played on her face transformed into sincerity when throwing a look back at me. I freeze up for a moment and watch her in the moonlight. When she's far from sight and I sense that Papa Smurf had gone into the confines of his lab, I laugh in a sickening way before a scowl emerges—

It'll take a lot for me to give into you, Smurfette. I know what game you're playing, and I know your friend won't like it either.

An arousing thought plays over and over; I shake my head to make it go away before setting off to my own hut… I hear distant giggling and "ahhs" and "oohs" and see little pinpricks of light fluttering around. The Smurflings were busy catching fireflies in glass jars.

And, there's Clumsy sitting on a log, "Oh, hey! Brainy, look it here at all the fireflies they're getting!"

Like a child, his legs kick up in the air and dangle around—

"Here! Go and catch some of your own!" the container is pressed against my chest by the redhead.

My wrapped hands can barely support the jar—

To distract myself from the pain I glance over at the rest of them, having the time of their lives. Slouchy himself took a shot at the activity, complete with that lazy smile.

"I don't think I can do this right now." To myself again.

"Sit next to me, Brainy!" The log creaks under my weight.

"Handy put me in charge of the kids today—they sure are a heap o' fun!" laughing and grinning all the while,

"Handy, huh?" I place the jar in the grass at my feet.

"Yeah—uh—what happened—your hands—

I let my annoyance drift away, "I was thinking hard about something—lot of things, really. Apparently I can't control my emotions, or I'm just stupid." I chuckle at my own personal stab.

"Oh, don't say that—

"I broke a glass jar while dusting it;" prodding at the one with me. I can't help but giggle. The whole incident seemed like a joke now. The cheers of innocence from the kids almost made me forget.

The log creaks again, and I leap off before it collapses, grabbing a hold at Clumsy's wrist as he falls backward—

"Whoa-!

"I got ya-" I grunt as the weight's pulled up,

"Thanks, Brainy!" All smiles.

Sassette skips to us, dots of light illuminating her face with a soft lime green glow. She looks at the empty jar and up at me, and then at my bandages.

My hand begins to ache, and I let go of Clumsy after he balanced himself up again, "Should have told you sooner. Sorry."

I crouch down to pick up the empty container and hand it to her, "Get some more; I'll take care of the rest."

"But," she pauses, "you're hurt." I plop down on the cool grass and crook my neck up—

"I'm fine, Sassette." Clumsy takes a seat real close—an overgrown kid. I flinch before scooting off to the side, then I take one long observation of the girl in pigtails.

The same expression as Smurfette. The only difference was the amount of "experience" she had. None. The sincerity was pure and untainted. Something, that only a child can radiate.

She grips the jar and nearly embraces it before joining up with the rest of the gang—It takes me a minute to sense Clumsy's gaze upon me—

"What is it?"

* * *

At least I'm not sore at them anymore.

Cold water splashes on my face as part of my nightly routine. The gauze felt rough but strangely exfoliating at the same time. The bleeding stopped completely, but the marks were still there, leaving a rustic shade of brown. I reach for a towel. My face stays within the cloth when I hear the Smurflings outside my house, along with other familiar voices.

"Look how many we got!"

"Well, would you look at that. Great job, Nat!"

"Thanks, Handy."

Hmm. Where there's Handy,

"Hey guys, Baby's all better!"

My heart burns, in a bad way. It's Smurfette's "friend", Hefty.

"Ugh." I bury my face in the towel completely for a moment before rushing over to the main gas lamp, clicking it shut. For no particular reason I cracked open the wooden windowsill and listen in on their conversation,

I could hear the little one cooing, followed by another gay cheer of the small crowd that _just happened_ to be at my porch,

"So, how were the kids, Clumsy? Did they behave?" that gruff tone.

My friend chuckled, "They sure did. Brainy came over and helped me take care of them too."

I heard Hefty belt out a laugh amidst the scattered banter of the adults and Smurflings alike, including Smurfette playing like a flute—

"He's doing better than last week!"

"Yeah, he wasn't crying like a baby this time!"

"Snappy!"

My head goes down with a thunk against the floor. If he was my child I'd give him a good trashing. Nat didn't do a very good job at defending me. So much for having a hypothetical little brother.

Sassette's voice rings in my ears, "Snappy _how could you?_"

"You promised not to say anything, remember?" a lazy remark. Slouchy sounded half asleep. The din of the various conversations quieted down at once.

_I really do not want to hear the rest._

Without thinking, in the dark, I grab for the nightgown, cap, blanket and pillow, toothbrush and paste and throw them onto a spread traveling tarp. Beads roll down my forehead when I hear the chitter-chatter get louder, and the words much clearer.

"Wait, _where_ _is_ Brainy?"

"Last time I checked—

The tarp fumbles to be tied down three times before I secure a knot on the pole. I lunge out the other windowsill reserved for my observatory and hear the shatter of the telescope lens before my hands ram the ground—

I scream in agony as soon as the front door to my house is slammed open—

"_Brainy?_" The last word my ears catch before hauling my load, stomping the ground behind me running away from everything I ever knew—

Again.

And again—

The shimmering lake emerges in my view and my legs carve a sharp left into the knothole of an enormous tree—(even for the humans).

Within the trunk my run slows to a crawl on the mottled leaves—My throat scratches and burns for the lack of oxygen.

Yet I breathe heavily; with each passing intake the salt water wells up in my sockets. The freshly dried scabs on my palms were open—In the black I can feel the liquid being soaked up by the damaged gauze—

"—_Raaagh!—-_

I scream and yell and curse for the next five minutes, pounding my fists wherever I could reach the wall of the trunk, the rotting ground.

This did nothing good for the bandages—they shredded with each strike on the rough surface—my head was about to split open—

A cross section of my brain exploded with images of the beating—The blows to the back of my skull—

The jeers of my fellow Smurfs.

And what did Papa Smurf do? Our Beloved Leader.

Absolutely nothing.

What a lousy, fucking dreadful end to a decent evening…

My aching neck no longer supported the poisonous thoughts that jolted through my nerves and brought my head straight down into the crusted mulch…

A wandering hand reaches for the handle of my travel pack and pulls it close. Too tired to change, the jumbled pouch becomes my lumpy pillow for the night.

Despite all the oddities of the day, I slept soundly, without a dream nor a nightmare to plague my weak heart.


	4. My Home

That potion… what was that potion…

I stir in my dead sleep. A tiny chill travels up my exposed back. My head's begging for the discarded cap at my side. My lazy hand reaches for the brim.

Then I sneeze. I never bothered to notice how cold it was getting last night.

Last night… "Nggh.." I got myself sitting on top of the mulch.

"At least my glasses are okay." I brush off something slimy with the side of my scarred hand and then at my hairless skull…

"Why do I keep running away?" I bury my face in my crossed arms. I really don't want to see them again. Ever. But I know that eventually I'm going to have to. I just can't leave my work lying around!

Good thing that most of them can't read very well… They'd know too much by then…

Why does it have to be so cold? What time of day is it? I crawl up the side of the trunk to a limp stand. Out of curiosity I clench my fists several times to see if the pain was still there. The scabs had reformed and I could only feel a tiny sting in each palm.

That's one good thing.

I can still hear crickets chirping. I poke my head out of the opening. The horizon over the lake's awash with blue and lavender. A tiny glowing speck of light in the distance… Another chill. It's early morning.

Despite the common sense I usually rely on, I removed my frames and bottom garment and took a dip into the freezing water. I submerged myself completely to adapt to its temperature…

There are times when, I wish, beneath this liquid surface, I could stay forever…

To have their laughter, their insults quiet down to murmurs—then silence beneath my warm towel upon my reddened face…

I have to breathe again. I gasp for thin air and anchor my arms to the water's bank—

"Brainy. Listen to yourself. You're an idiot." Another deep intake, "H—hold on!" My fingers hook in and dig into the dirt, "Please, hold on."

It's okay. It's okay! I'm fine… I'm not afraid.

Underwater again with a clear conscience.

I'm a liar. A hypocrite.

But I need to go back.

* * *

I can't stop thinking about that rosebud. Playing God.

A strength unknown to me seeps into my woven fists. One hanging at my side while the other's lugging around my travel pack on my shoulder.

I have to hand it to Papa. He did a good job. That special balm of his still worked even after I went ballistic tearing up the damned gauze.

… What am I going to tell him? What's my excuse this time?

I kept trudging on through the path to the Smurf Village—

At least _this_ time I know where the hell I'm going.

The canopies of the evergreens looming overhead kept me in the cool shade. The chills racing throughout my body wouldn't cease. The sun should be out soon, but for now I have to live with it…

The pine needles crunch with every step I take, one of the few noises apart from the cawing of birds and a whispering wind rustling the branches together. It's all serene. No voices, just my breathing forming clouds in the air.

The sloshing of water wakes me from my trance.

I kneel down on the pebbles and scoop up a handful of the sweet ice to bring it to my dry parted lips…

"Brainy?" Another whisper. So low that I never cringed in fear.

I already know who it is. Still drinking from my palms, "Good morning, Clumsy."

His surprisingly strong arms wrap around me from behind. Any other time I would nearly curse at him to keep his distance…

But not now. "We went looking for you everywhere."

"… Where are they now?"

"Asleep, pretty close by here… even the kids are here."

Sassette. My muscles inched to a smirk, out of amusement. Now he's sitting next to me. Out of everyone in the Village, he seems to be the only one who can seek me out, without the intention of causing me harm. I guess this is what makes him a good friend, despite his flaws.

"Don't wake them up. They need more rest, and so do you. I'm going back to my hut and turn in." I'm secretly wishing he'd come with me.

As obedient as he was, "Okay…" Another hug, my arms limped at my sides which didn't raise a centimeter, "See you later, Brainy."

…

"See you."

* * *

My eyelids were heavy. I didn't want to get up anymore. I sensed that the other Smurfs were back home. The faint clank and whir of Handy's machinery and the squeak of Farmer's wheelbarrow signified the beginning of another day, and nearly breakfast time.

A knock at my door; I drift off into a warm, soothing fantasy.

Another couple knocks, and it's being snatched away. Already I'm getting irritated.

"Come in" a hoarse voice void of oxygen; I cough a little.

"Good morning, my little Smurf." My blurry eyes couldn't make out the multitude of figures at my door. I reach out for the lenses and stick them on.

"Hello, everyone" Smiling was not an option for me. The Smurflings and Smurfette beamed, realizing that I still existed. Snappy looked anxious, "I'm sorry four-eyes, er, Brainy. I didn't know—" Out of the gathering, the girl in pigtails rushed into me with the tightest hug I ever received, I could barely breathe—

"Sa—Sassette—!" For a girl she had a hard grip. It must be from all those games she plays with the boys. Nat loosened her arms before giving me his hand, which I held onto without hesitation,

"We looked for you everywhere, big brother!" I stifled a laugh within my throat. Oh, this is getting ridiculous.

Papa was leaning against the door. He let out a chuckle of relief as Smurfette leaned in and gave me another kiss on the cheek.

Fuckin' ridiculous.

I expect them to return to a state of neglect. I expect them to forget my very existence. I'm just another in a sea of these pathetic creatures… I'm pathetic.

I just want to lock myself in my study to continue the task hardwired into my puny gnome mind since I realized the world could never be perfect.

* * *

It would soon be back to the same.

The constant questions of my recovery from random Smurfs had finally quelled.

It would soon be back to the same.

Smurfette was getting protective of herself again. At least that's what I think she's doing. I'm seeing more public displays of affection towards Hefty more than ever. Especially when they're looking after Baby, as if they wanted one of their own; I'll admit I'm getting jealous.

Next topic.

* * *

"What are you doing, Brainy?" A straw hat's brim scratched my arm lightly.

"Papa's making me do inventory." Jotting down endless numbers of limited supplies on parchment mounted on a wooden clipboard. I adjust my glasses before they threaten to fall off. I'm hunched down counting sacks of walnuts and cut pieces of truffle preserved in jars.

I peer over my shoulder; Nat seems bored all at once. Truthfully I don't care if he left but out of trained habit I engage him in further conversation, "How are you little brother?"

He blinks at my sugar coated tone but then lets out a smile, "I'm all right, and so are the others—

"Sassette?"

Odd silence, "She's fine."

I couldn't care less about Snappy and I never really thought much of Slouchy; "Sassette" was the only name I could use.

Nat raised a brow in an off-putting way, "Why do you ask?"

I respond with a high disinterest for the name I've just mentioned, "Just 'cause."

I bite the side of my tongue thinking of what else I could say. Nothing comes to mind.

"I guess you're kinda busy here. Sorry."

Shrugging my shoulders once my back's turned to him, "I guess I am."

The shadow of the Smurfling on the wall walks away with hesitant steps. I realize that my vision is getting worse, or rather that the light I just had began to dim. I bite the tip of the quill realizing that it's sunset once again. I'm done for the day.

* * *

Long tables are filled with wasted oxygen in bouts of yelling and laughter as my tired eyes search for visible stars through the laterns' pollution of the sky. I don't speak as Clumsy sits down next to me with that same carefree or clueless attitude.

I expect "Hey Brainy!" or "Boy I'm hungry!" but he only gobbles down the food served to him. I had finished my meal five minutes ago and all I'm doing is playing with the spoon. From the corner of my eye I spot Smurfette pecking at Hefty's cheek, much to their audience's excitement. The constant rumble of voices makes my eyelids get heavy. I end the onset of lethargy by pushing myself off the stump for a chair before trudging off.

It took my only companion less than ten minutes to catch up to me in my trek through a familiar path in the outskirts of the forest. I acknowledge his presence with a clearing of my throat. He thought that this was his permission from me to speak,

"Bet you're doing better now, Brainy?" I kept quiet.

In all ignorance he wraps an arm around me; I flinch. He sure as hell won't be holding my hand. Either way the rest of them would be getting the wrong message—that we must be some couple.

I bet they wouldn't go spreading the same thing if Clumsy happened to be a lot younger, or if the girls Smurfette and Sassette did the same thing…

Funny I can't imagine myself being a kid; I'm void of eternal happiness and sunshine and that must be the first requirement to be one.

"You gonna get off me Clumsy?" Shoving him away much to his surprise.

He hasn't forgotten my lack of resistance at the stream; Clumsy's a few feet away from me with that same look from last time.

I'm so cold.

A chirping of crickets, bellow of a bullfrog, and the hoot of an owl breaks the abyss of what could have been a deeply meaningful chat. "I didn't mean to be rude."

"No Brainy; I'm sorry for doing that." I can barely hear him.

I appreciate having someone who cares at all, "I really do."

"What?"

"Nothing." I'm beginning to feel terrible for reasons I myself can't understand.

Clumsy manages to pipe up, "I'm glad you're okay;" I try to grin in return—"are you?"

I'm getting sick of the interrogation and stare at my side to notice a flower, which unlocks a fragment of a recent memory, "There's a potion that Papa has that makes things grow."

This was said partially to distract myself from light depression. But having it said in the affirmative sparked my interest, "I want to know what's in it."

I'm talking to myself now but Clumsy doesn't get it, "Sounds like a swell potion; how'd you find out?"

"I spilled it and—

Don't want to revisit the intense emotions from that day.

"Never you mind Clumsy. I've had an off day as usual." Last part a bit rushed, "But I'm glad that you're here with me. You're a good friend."

_Even if you're nothing but a naïve boy._

He failed to raise the cap over his eyes in elation, touching my shoulder with an outstretched hand. For the first time in what felt like months I get a good look at his face, orbs glazed over, "You're a good friend too! Even though you can be kinda.."

My brows rise uncontrollably for what I know he would say next. And now I'm just waiting for it.

"Kind of…"

_Say it._

Sighing in impatience, I remove his hand from my shoulder before bidding him good night, heading back home to sort out the tumult in my mind from days gone by.

"Kinda mean."

* * *

Tumbling in sleep—

"No… no..!"

Migraine attacked the elder after he awoke. He rubbed at his temples with calloused hands, "oh no."

Another nightmare. Papa Smurf was beginning to notice a pattern, although the dreams in themselves were never clear. Yet they somehow always left him tense and shaking.

It would be rude and strange to wake his fellow Smurfs in the middle of the night to speak of some outdated superstition known as a vision. A vision that had yet to be interpreted to make any sense.

In mixing another potion to aid his sleep in the candlelight, he was lulled into a meditative state.

"Nothing's wrong, Papa."

_Nothing's wrong._

* * *

_Dammit._

There I went indulging in my wicked fantasy again. I'm terrible.

Didn't just think about it. I wrote it down word per word. A little break from my _Quotes from Brainy Smurf _took a turn for the worst. It began as an organization of many stray musings, trying to get myself under control.

Sitting there with one leg crossed over the other, parchment seized in my hand with illegible scrawls only to be understood by me, I end up chuckling for just a bit. Then I open a drawer in the desk and shove it underneath other documents.

Oh ho I'm terrible.

I'd told myself to get some rest many times over and have always slept late. Maybe that explains my foul mood.

Groaning for a second after removing my glasses, I bite my lip to stifle yet another giggle.

… I should turn in.


End file.
